


down the rabbit hole

by TheDragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: In which Arthur discovers Merlin is sleeping with Gwaine and promptly flies into a jealous rage.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 725
Collections: Merthur Glompfest 2020





	down the rabbit hole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merlioske](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlioske/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [Merlioske](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlioske/pseuds/Merlioske) in the [Merthur_Glompfest_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Merthur_Glompfest_2020) collection. 



> I'm so happy I finally managed to finish this. Like, so happy. At one point I started doubting it would happen, but welp. Here it is!
> 
> Merlioske, your prompt was the purest gold and I hope I did it justice. And, on a bit of a side note, I've mostly finished writing that smut I promised you on Tumblr <3 I'm proud to say it's grown into what is basically 3.5K words of PWP.

Merlin almost falls to the floor trying to put on the second boot.

“You don’t have to be in such a rush, Merlin. You paid for the whole night. Sunrise is still at least an hour away.”

Merlin’s face softens when he catches sight of the man lying splayed out over the bed. He’s completely naked and covered with sweat and oil, and all the more alluring for it.

“I need to get back to the castle. Arthur’s going to be insufferable if I show up late for work again,” Merlin explains, finally managing to tug the boot into place.

The man huffs a quiet laugh. “He seems to run you ragged, and yet you still show up here three nights out of every seven.”

“Everyone needs some entertainment every once in a while, Andred,” Merlin replies, shooting him a lopsided smile.

In truth, it’s all Arthur’s fault that he’s here so often—Arthur and his muscled arms and thighs that Merlin sees at least twice a day, Arthur and his ruby red lips and golden hair, Arthur and his kind and noble heart—

 _Fuck_. He came here to forget Arthur. To fuck all this yearning and pent up frustration right out of his system, and he can’t even seem to do that right.

Merlin buckles his boot and stands up, reaching out for the bag he left on the wardrobe. It makes a soft clinking noise as he lifts it, reminding him of the delicate glass bottle he put inside just before leaving for the brothel.

“I have something for you,” Merlin says, reaching inside the bag. “I’ve been messing around with herbs and such recently, and I thought. Well. That I could make you something to thank you.”

He finally manages to wrap his fingers around the neck of the bottle and pulls it out. Andred gets off the bed and pads up to him, cock and balls swinging between his thighs. Merlin isn’t ashamed to admit that his gaze lingers on those unfairly attractive parts of him before landing on his face.

“What is it?” Andred asks, reaching out for the gift. Merlin hands it over and locks his hands together behind his back, trying not to feel too much like a child showing off one of their creations.

“It’s a scented oil,” he rushes to explain. “I thought, well, what with your profession and all, you would maybe like to have one? You once mentioned you like the smell of lavender, so it’s lavender-based and—”

Andred shuts him up with a kiss that leaves Merlin with glazed eyes and swollen lips.

“I don’t recall paying extra for snogging,” he says once they finally separate, voice rough and mind still pleasantly fuzzy.

“It’s free of charge,” Andred says, grinning at him. “Consider it a thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

Merlin jumps when a hand squeezes his backside.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for one more round?” Andred asks, diving in to nibble at the crook of Merlin’s neck. Merlin shivers as he starts sucking on a particularly sensitive spot.

“No, I— _ah_ —I really do need to be getting back. Sooner rather than later unfortunately,” he says, trying his best not to whimper at the arousal setting his body alight. _Fuck_. He already came thrice this night. _How_ is his cock still managing to harden in his breeches?!

“Pity,” Andred says, but lets him go with one last peck on the lips. “Go on, get back to your king then.”

~oOo~

The trouble with being around Arthur on a daily basis is. Well. Everything.

Merlin would probably be able to wrestle his unrequited feelings into submission if not for the fact that Arthur. Keeps. _Touching_. Him.

With the knights, it’s always a punch to the arm, or an arm around the shoulders. With the ladies of the court, it’s a kiss to hand. With Merlin, it’s _everything_.

Sometimes, it feels like Arthur goes out of his way to touch him as often as he can. The contact isn’t limited to Arthur’s chambers, either. When they pass each other in the halls— _whenever_ they pass each other in the halls—there is always some part of Arthur that brushes up against him, despite the halls being wide enough for at least three people to walk through shoulder to shoulder. When he’s sat down somewhere and Arthur walks by, he always, _always_ reaches out to ruffle Merlin’s hair. When they’re laughing at something, he places a hand on Merlin’s upper back. When they’re—

Well. The gist of it is, Arthur touches him a lot.

Logically, he knows that Arthur doesn’t mean anything by it, but that doesn’t stop his heart from leaping in his chest at every casual touch. Every time he feels Arthur's skin against his own or Arthur's fingers moving through his hair, he _wants_. 

But what he wants is unattainable, so night after night, rather than going back to his dingy little bed after a long day of work, Merlin sneaks out of the castle to get fucked by a stranger.

As much as he might not want to say it, he's thankful to Gwaine for helping him find someone to help take his mind off what he can't have.

~oOo~

There's something different about Merlin today, although Arthur can't quite put his finger on what it is.

Merlin's hair is still the same unruly bird's nest, his clothes are just as worn as ever, and he's walking around with his usual smile glued in place, and yet...

And yet.

It's not until Merlin is putting his breakfast before him that Arthur finally catches on.

"Have you been using scented oils?" he asks incredulously. Merlin smells completely different than the usual mixture of soap and medicine. Like some sort of flowers, maybe.

"What are you talking about?" Merlin asks, eyebrows scrunching together. "I've never used scented oils in my life."

"Really?" Arthur asks, raising one eyebrow in obvious disbelief. "And I expect I _imagined_ the smell of flowers when you bent down to put my breakfast on the table."

"Arthur, I honestly have no clue what you're talking about," Merlin huffs. "If that's all, then I really do have to go now. I barely got any sleep last night, and I have a whole list of chores to do for you, not to mention that Gaius told me to replenish his herb supplies and clean out the leach tank."

"Right," Arthur says, narrowing his eyes and picking up his knife and fork. "And I suppose my empty breakfast platter will just have to magic itself down to the kitchens, then, won't it?"

Merlin rolls his eyes. "You can be such a _child_ sometimes. Just hurry up and finish eating so that I can go do my job."

For no reason other than to make Merlin's life exceedingly difficult, Arthur eats as slowly as possible. Merlin's twitching eyebrow tells him that he knows exactly what Arthur is doing, but he doesn't deign to comment on it. He rolls his eyes skyward and starts on whatever chores he has to do in Arthur's chambers since it's apparent he's not going to be leaving them anytime soon.

By the time Arthur is done with his food, Merlin is visibly annoyed with him. He's taken to stomping about the room and shooting Arthur dirty looks every five seconds. Arthur magnanimously allows Merlin to take away the breakfast tray.

When Merlin leans down to pick up his plate, he smells lavender.

~oOo~

Once Merlin has left, Arthur makes his way to the Knights chambers because there are some (namely Gwaine), who seems to think that attending training is optional and after the morning he's had, Arthur is a bit annoyed. As much as he might hate to admit it, Merlin's abrupt disappearance from his chambers has left him more than a bit starved for company.

The door to Gwaine's chambers is closed, but he can hear what seem to be groans from behind it, so he assumes that Gwaine is, miraculously, up and about at this time of day. As such, seeing as he _is_ the king and all, Arthur doesn't bother knocking on the door and instead opts to just let himself in.

He regrets that decision within moments of making it.

Gwaine is awake, all right. So is the man sitting astride him on the bed. The sheets and most of the pillows are on the floor, and there's a pile of clothing not far from the foot of the bed. The man in Gwaine's bed, though...

Arthur doesn't see much of him beside his pale back and black hair before he's turning around on his heel and exiting the room as quickly as he can. The leather coat hanging on the hook on the door almost hits him in the face as the thing swings open, and he suddenly finds himself assaulted by an awfully familiar smell.

He can't manage to place it at first, and it's not until he's halfway down to the armoury that he realises that it's the same scent Merlin wore this morning.

~oOo~

If anyone asked Arthur, he would say that the knight's training went as well as it always did. If anyone, however, asked his knights, they might be disinclined to agree.

But yes, he's absolutely, _completely_ convinced that training went as it normally did, even if his every thought was about Merlin fucking Gwaine behind his back.

He just... He doesn't _understand_. He doesn't know why Merlin wouldn't just come out and tell him that he was in a relationship with Gwaine. It couldn't be because Merlin thought he would get angry, because honestly, why would he? The only reason he's angry now is because he'd found out that two of his very closest friends were keeping secrets from him.

He's angry, yes, but there seems to be some other emotion there too, underneath all the resentment that seems to be piling up. As much as he hates to admit it, that ugly, green thing sitting in his chest is probably jealousy.

Arthur's knights are all staring at him now with varying degrees of terror on their faces. He pretends he doesn't notice and orders them to run another lap around the field, and that. _That_ is the moment Gwaine finally deigns to grace them all with his presence, and Arthur sees red.

"Sorry I'm late!" Gwaine says when he's within hearing distance. There's a large red love bite blooming on his neck beneath his left ear; Gwaine made no attempt to cover it up. Just like that, Arthur is assaulted by images of Gwaine in bed with Merlin, having him suck marks into his skin. Arthur’s muscles tense and for a second, he’s sure he can feel his heart pounding violently in his chest. Is Merlin also covered in love bites? Would Gwaine have left them all over Merlin's neck, his chest, his back? Would Gwaine have left hand-shaped bruises on Merlin's hips? Would he have—

"I see training started without me." Gwaine smirks at him.

"Yes, well, some of us somehow manage not to spend the whole day in bed," Arthur retorts, glaring at him. Gods, Gwaine doesn't look the _least_ bit frazzled despite knowing what state Arthur must have seen him in this morning.

"Well, what can I say? Some of us have very important things waiting for us in our beds," Gwaine says with a leer, and good god, that is fucking _it._

"In that case, how about you demonstrate some prowess outside of bed? With me, Sir Gwaine. You and I are going to have a one-on-one match. The rest of you can watch and later tell me what Sir Gwaine did wrong and how that contributed to him losing this battle."

As Gwaine comes closer, the remaining knights move away, leaving a circular space in the middle of the field.

If he’s completely honest, Arthur doesn't remember much of the fight. There was blow after blow after blow, and there was grass and sweat and dirt. At the end of it, Gwaine is lying at his feet, sword knocked far out of reach and cradling a wrist that is obviously paining him. It's only then that Arthur comes back to his senses and puts his own sword down.

"Someone take him to Gaius," he says, taking his helmet off and throwing it to the ground. When none of the knights move to obey, he growls a low, " _Now_ " and stalks off the field.

Merlin _still_ isn't in the armoury. Instead his armour is removed by the same squire who had helped him to put it on before—a fact which does nothing to alleviate his slowly worsening mood. When the squire finally manages to take every last piece of metal off him, Arthur wrenches away from him and leaves for his chambers.

Not a soul dares to get in his way as he strides through the corridors and back to his rooms. Every single person he comes across, be it servant or courtier, scuttles over to the walls to allow him to pass unobstructed. As such, the walk back to his rooms takes no longer than a few minutes and then finally, he's inside with the door closed behind him.

It's empty, which is not unexpected. Merlin is absent, probably busy tending to his chores, seeing as Gwaine is a bit preoccupied at the moment. Arthur takes a deep breath, then another, and forces his coiled muscles to relax. He pokes his head back out the door and calls for a servant to arrange him a bath. In the meantime, he sits down at his desk and tries to occupy himself with the reports stacked atop it.

The water, when he sinks into it, is decidedly cooler than what he is used to. There aren't any oils in it, either, and despite how much he always complains when Merlin pours them in, he realises that he misses their comforting scent. It almost feels like a slap in the face, the reminder that Merlin isn't here to tend to his needs, that he has to make do with other servants instead.

Is this how it's going to be in the future? Is his time with Merlin going to be limited even more than it already has been now that he's become king and acquired additional responsibilities? Is Merlin going to be spending his free time with Gwaine rather than catching up with Arthur? Are their breakfast conversations and their dinner conversations suddenly going to turn into a thing of the past?

Is he going to lose his best friend?

Arthur grits his teeth and sinks further into the water's warm embrace. He's just about managed to relax and release at least _some_ of the tension from his muscles when someone barges into his chambers, and, well, there's only one person in the castle who doesn't bother knocking on his door when he comes in.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Arthur says through his teeth, not bothering to turn around to try to catch a glimpse of Merlin. He doesn't want to be faced with evidence of Merlin's morning tryst with _Gwaine_ of all people.

Arthur jumps as something metallic clatters onto the table somewhere behind him.

"I would have been here sooner," Merlin says, "but _someone_ decided to end their training session early, and, for whatever reason, that same someone didn't bother to send for me. Besides, I told you that today is a busy day for me. I’ve been running around all day!”

"Oh, sure," Arthur snarls. "I know _exactly_ how busy you were today."

He's blessed with a few seconds of silence before Merlin stomps over to the bath and directs the full force of his glare at him.

"What is _with_ you?!" he exclaims. "You're being much more insufferable than usual! Did something happen?" he asks in a quieter voice. "During training, did something happen? Is that why you came back early? Are you hurt?"

And then Merlin's pulling him right out of the tub, uncaring of Arthur's state of complete and utter undress. He holds Arthur in place with his hands on his shoulders, then makes him turn around when he doesn't find any injuries marring his front. Arthur allows him to do as he pleases, shocked as he is by the proprietary way Merlin is laying hands on his royal person. He lets it go on, relishing the feel of Merlin's warm fingers stroking across his shoulders, his back and chest, enjoying the way Merlin's gaze lingers for too long on a few very male parts of his anatomy.

"...You're not hurt," Merlin concludes. When Arthur turns to look at him over his shoulder, his brows are furrowed.

"How astute of you," he says drily. "No, I'm not hurt. _Gwaine_ is the one who got hurt."

"What?" Merlin says, face paling. Whatever smugness Arthur may have been feeling over having felled Gwaine in training dissipates and is quickly replaced by guilt.

"He's fine," Arthur says, wanting to rid Merlin's face of fear. "The only parts of him that got hurt were his wrist and his ego." God, at least he hopes that's true. Much as he might have wanted to hurt Gwaine in the moment, he's not actually a bad enough person to want to have caused lasting damage. Besides, he doesn't think Merlin would ever forgive him for hurting his lover, and he really, _really_ doesn’t want to lose Merlin’s friendship over something as silly as… whatever _this_ is.

" _Arthur_ ," Merlin says, crossing his arms. "What is _with_ you today? You were fine in the morning. What in the world could have happened since then?"

"Nothing," Arthur says. "Nothing happened." And then, because he's an insufferable git who only wants to torture himself, he asks, "So how did your day go?"

Merlin looks at him oddly, but thankfully he takes Arthur's seeming change of topic in stride. "It went fine. I got a lot of work done. I don't think Gaius's leech tanks have ever been cleaner, and I miraculously managed to get through the whole list of chores you left for me."

Arthur snorts. "Really? And when, exactly, did you find the time to do all of that?"

"After I left your chambers this morning?" Merlin replies, tilting his head to the side. "Are you sure you're all right? You didn't take any blows to the head, did you?"

Arthur decides to ignore that last comment.

"After you left my chambers this morning? _Really_ ?" he asks, making sure to inject as much disbelief into his voice as he can. "Because I'm fairly certain I saw you doing _something else_."

"What are you talking about?" Merlin asks, the deepening furrow between his brows giving away his growing impatience with Arthur. "I left your chambers, took care of Gaius's leech tank, then the chores you left me, _then_ , because I ran out of time to go collect herbs myself, I had to run down to the market, and now I am—if you haven’t noticed—standing right in front of you. I have had _no time_ to do literally _anything_ else, and unless you're angry that I wasn't there to get you ready for training, may I remind you that I _did_ , in fact, send you an appropriate replacement. Now, are you going to tell me what crawled up your arse and died or are you going to make me guess, you complete and utter _prat_?"

"You can't talk to your king that way," Arthur grumbles. He shakes off the drops of water still clinging to his skin and reaches out for the linen towel hanging off the changing screen.

"Well, you're not behaving very kingly right now, are you."

The growing tension is causing Arthur's shoulders to rise all the way up to his ears. He takes a deep breath and forces them back down.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks from someplace behind him, but Arthur refuses to turn around and look at him, instead occupying himself with drying off. Eventually, Merlin huffs and stops trying to get his attention. By the time Arthur deems himself dry enough, puts on fresh clothes, and manages to convince himself to reemerge from behind the dubious safety of changing screen, Merlin has dealt with the laundry Arthur left lying on the floor and called in more servants to get rid of the bathwater. As Arthur stands there and watches, they take the tub away.

"You have a council meeting in an hour," Merlin says, walking over to the door. "I'll go get you something to eat, since we all know how insufferable you get when you have an empty stomach."

And then Merlin, too, is gone.

Arthur sits down on his bed, puts his head in his hands and _breathes_.

By the time Merlin comes back, Arthur has managed to wrangle most of his emotions under control. All it took was a few deep breaths and a bit of screaming into a pillow.

Merlin arrives with a tray full of food—somehow, miraculously, full of Arthur's favourites, and where did he even manage to get those on such short notice?—and sets it down on the table. He pulls out Arthur's chair and motions for him to sit in it, but Arthur is hesitant to leave the safety of his bed.

It's not until Merlin's eyebrows start rising again, a sure indication that he's been spending too much time around Gaius, that Arthur finally sighs and does as he's told. Throughout the meal, he's hyper-aware of Merlin standing behind him, looking at him, but neither he nor Merlin say a word, not until Arthur has finished eating and the little green monster in his chest has dissolved into a puddle of hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur asks. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin go oddly still.

"Tell you what?" Merlin asks, voice quiet and shaky. Really, just about anyone would be able to tell that he's hiding something.

"Stop playing the idiot, Merlin," Arthur growls, whipping around to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me that you were sleeping with Gwaine?"

Merlin just stands there, blinking rapidly, his face the epitome of confusion.

"I saw you," Arthur continues. "This morning, I saw you in his bed. Why didn't you tell me?" He doesn't mean for the words to come out sounding so pained and raw, but it's too late now.

"Arthur, I don't know what you saw, but I wouldn't touch Gwaine with an eight foot lance! He's like a brother to me!"

"I _saw_ you!" Arthur insists, running his hand through his hair just to have something to _do_. "And I know what I saw!"

Merlin huffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

"And what, exactly, did you see?"

"You! You were in his bed, on top of him! I saw you—your—" Arthur breaks off because, well, he didn't actually see Merlin's face, did he? And judging by the incredulity making its way onto Merlin's face, he's beginning to suspect that maybe what he saw this morning isn't as clear-cut as he thought it was. "I saw that bird's nest you call your hair, and I saw your back. And your brown leather jacket was hanging off the hook on the door and it smelled _exactly_ like you did this morning!"

"It smelled—" Merlin is looking at him oddly again, and Arthur wants to grab him by the shoulders and just _shake_ him until the world starts making sense.

"Like you did. Exactly like you did. Like some sort of herb. Or a flower, maybe," Arthur says, watching as Merlin's face becomes paler the longer he talks.

"Like lavender?" Merlin asks, voice ripe with defeat, and that is pretty much all the proof Arthur needs.

"So you admit it was you?"

"No!" Merlin wails. "I don't know how many times I have to repeat this, but _it wasn't me_! But I. Um. I may know who it was."

Arthur stares.

"So. Um," Merlin begins, ears red. "I may have. Er. I may be sleeping with someone." When he sees Arthur open his mouth, he quickly continues. "But it's not Gwaine! It's not. It. Um. It may, however, be someone he recommended. From one of the brothels."

"You've been sleeping with a whore?!" Arthur asks incredulously. " _Why?_ "

"Because I've been trying to take my mind off you!" Merlin shouts, spinning Arthur's chair around so that it's facing away from the table (he really has more strength than Arthur gave him credit for). "You're _everywhere_. I see you naked every day, and I have eyes, all right?! And needs! And I think I've gone and done something stupid like falling in love with you when obviously, it can never go anywhere so I've been trying to get you out of my head!"

At first, Arthur sits there silently and stares, but when Merlin’s eyes start tearing up, he launches himself from his seat.

"Merlin..." Arthur puts his hands up and approaches him slowly, thankful beyond belief that Merlin doesn't back away from him.

"I don't even know why I'm even telling you this," Merlin says despondently. "I really don't. I'm sorry, I'll never mention it again."

"Don't," Arthur says, then winces. "I mean, do. I mean—god, why are emotions so hard to articulate?!—look, I've been behaving like an arse because I think I may have been a bit jealous."

" _Jealous_?"

"I thought I saw you in Gwaine's bed and proceeded to pummel him into the ground during training, all right?" And there it is, the guilt he's been refusing to feel since he saw Gwaine limp off to see Gaius. Now he's going to have to find a way to apologise to him without making it look like he's actually apologising. Great. "And I realised that it may have been because I couldn't bear the thought of you sleeping with anyone other than me," he finishes, squaring his shoulders.

"I... I think I need to sit down," Merlin says, reaching out with one hand to find something to hold on to.

"Merlin?" Arthur asks, the anxiety he's been refusing to feel suddenly skyrocketing.

"I just. You want to sleep with me?" Merlin ascertains. "With _me_. You want to _sleep_ with _me_."

"That is what I said, yes. And you just confessed to being in love with me, in case you're not sure that happened either."

"So... what? Is this something you just want to get out of your system? Because if you want—if this happens, it can't be a one-time thing. It _can't_ ," Merlin says, voice growing quieter with every word.

"It wouldn't be," Arthur replies just as quietly. "I think I'm in love with you, too."

At that, Merlin makes some odd, strangled noise deep in his throat and lunges at Arthur. Before Arthur realises what's happened, Merlin's fingers are twisting the soft cotton of his tunic and his lips are right on top of Arthur's. Arthur puts his hands on Merlin's waist to steady him before he manages to push the both of them into the table.

Merlin's lips are soft and pliable under his own, and he tastes a bit like the berries he brought Arthur along with his lunch. Arthur swipes his tongue across the bow of Merlin's lips once, then again, before Merlin opens his mouth to let him in.

Unfortunately, they do eventually have to break the kiss for lack of air, but Arthur doesn't let Merlin back away from him. He leans his forehead against Merlin's as their breaths intermingle and finds himself unable to look away.

"Was it just as good as you imagined?" he murmurs, letting his lips tilt up into a teasing smile. The smack he gets on the shoulder is completely expected and has him breaking into soft laughter.

"You're awful," Merlin says in the same tone one might say 'wonderful'. "I have no idea what I see in you."

"My amazingly good looks? My charming personality?" Arthur quips, darting in to place a quick peck on Merlin's lips.

"Definitely not your personality," Merlin says, but he acquiesces when Arthur leans forward to kiss him again. He doesn't even seem to notice when Arthur starts walking him backwards towards the bed, not until his calves bump against it. He gasps into Arthur's mouth when the sudden collision almost causes him to fall over.

"You realise you're going to have to apologise to Gwaine, I hope."

Arthur hums noncommittally. He moves his lips down to Merlin's jaw and sucks, revelling in the way the pale tone of Merlin’s skin gives way to a spot of bright red.

" _Arthur_ ," Merlin says, half-heartedly trying to push him away and shuddering when Arthur's lips find a particularly sensitive spot.

"Why?" Arthur asks, "are you thinking about Gwaine right now when you're in _my_ arms, with _my_ lips on your skin, and about to fall into _my_ bed?"

With a surprising show of strength—the second today, not that Arthur is counting—Merlin turns the both of them around and pushes Arthur down onto the bed instead.

"Then how about you _make_ me think about you instead," Merlin asks, smirking at him as he dives down for another kiss.


End file.
